Ask Auntie Enjolras
by Robyn-Enjolras
Summary: From one of the writers that wrote such classics like "Ask Auntie Carlisle". Enjolras answers your burning questions! Part Treize: Enjolras, armed with some brownies and some of his gang, go to see the Les Mis movie.
1. In which there are Patria and Cupcakes

A/N: So, as of, like, last week, I've been a rabid Les Mis fangirl (yick) for reasons I don't even know. It's probably 'cause "Twilight" is making me mad and stuff.

Anyway, I wanted to write a new Les Mis-related fic, and the first thing that came to my mind was in the spirit of my advice columns (see "Ask Auntie Carlisle" (Twilight) and "Ask Auntie Roger" (Rent) on my and my friend's other pen-name, Jasper-and-Carlisle).

Volià, here it is. (Sorry if I get anything wrong or OOC, I have written Les Mis fics in, like, 2 years, I think. Maybe 3. Yeah). And, yes, laptops were invented, I have decided. And, yes, this will mirror the format of my other two advice columns. And sorry if this has already been done, I did not know.

And if you want your question featured on "Ask Auntie Enjolras", don't be shy! Message me, write it in a review, or email me! (my email is in my profile :) )

DISCLAIMER: I do not own teh Miz.

* * *

I sighed impatiently as I waited for my laptop to start. I read the note for the 40th time that day:

_Dear M. Enjolras,_

_All of us unanimously felt that you should start an advice column. Tthe people we're fighting for, and maybe even others, could send you an email asking their pressing questions. And the person they should talk to, Fearless Leader, is you._

_Signed,  
__Les Amis de l'ABC_

_PS: Oh, and Grantaire really wants to tell you something:  
__HI APOLLO!! IT'S R!! :)_

I opened 'Internet Explorer' and signed onto my email account.

**GOOD AFTERNOON, **_**ENJOLRAS**_**, YOU HAVE **_**1**_** NEW MESSAGE!**

"_Parfait_," I muttered as I opened the email.

_Dear Enjolras,_

_So, I was wondering who this 'Patria' girl was. I mean, like, is she your gf for life? 'cause if she is, that's mean, 'cause I'm sure I want you more. Please tell me!_

_--  
__I Loves You, Cupcake_

"Oh, man, how do I answer this?!" I asked no one as I slammed my hand to my forehead. I've only been asked this question a million billion times.

_Dear Cupcakes,_

_Hee… I like cupcakes! Anywho, Patria is not a person. Or a girl. Or alive. _

'_Patria' means 'fatherland' or 'country' in Latin. I love my country, thus I love Patria. There you go._

_It took some time for the Amis to figure that out, though…_

**LE CAFÉ MUSAIN, -INSERT DATE HERE-**

"So, like, last weekend, I took Musichetta out to dinner, and then the restaurant poisoned my food on purpose and then I got really sick and that's why I'm late today," Joly managed, adding a sniffle at the end.

"Likely story!" sneered Courfeyrac.

"No, really! Everyone's out to get me!" Joly said in defense.

"We know!"

"Guys, please. C'mon!" I attempted to break up the fight.

"Yeah. Listen to the Enjmeister," echoed Grantaire.

"Uhm… thanks, winecask. _Anyway_, last night I drew up some plans for—" I started.

"What'd _you_ do last weekend, Enjypoo?" inquired Bossuet.

"Uhm… did you just call me 'Enjypoo'. Like, legit…?"

"Er… mehbe…"

"Yeah, Enj, what did you do?!" squealed Feuilly.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you…" I said.

"Mmk… like we're gonna believe that!" Feuilly retorted.

"What did you do with your girlfriend… Uh, Patrice? Beatrice? Rosalie? No, I think it was—" Jehan pondered.

"Patria!" remembered L'aigle de Meaux.

"Yeah! That one!"

"Aw, man, you shouldn't'a did that, mes amis," Combeferre warned.

"How. Many. Times. Do. I. Have. To. Tell. You. That. Patria. Is—" I began, but then Marius McLoserface waltzed through the door.

"Like, oh em ef gee be be que, guys! I am soooo sorry! I was walking down the street to come to the meeting here, but then these midgets came out of nowhere and I was like, 'Guys I gotta go meet my friends at the Musain!' and then they were like 'No, Marius, you gotta come with us, cracka.' And then they took me to this dark alley and then I got all scared and then—"

"You were with Cosette weren't you?" I reasoned.

"Mmmm… yeah. Say, how's Patria?" he asked innocently.

"WHAT IS WITH YOU GUYS?! DO YOU EVER LISTEN TO ME? I MEAN, LIKE SERIOUSLY! DOES ANYTHING I EVER SAY EVEN MAKE ITS WAY THROUGH THAT THICK SKULL OF YOURS? LIKE… guys?" I noticed that all of the Amis, even 'Ferre, had all cast their eyes downward towards the floor. Some of theme nervously tapped their feet.

"I just come to look at you, but you probably already knew that," admitted Grantaire, refilling his glass with more whiskey.

"Uhm… I need friends," Bahorel whispered softly.

"I need a place to go other than my apartment…" Jehan resigned.

"Yeah, me too. I mean, I do have the worst roommate _ever_…" Courfeyrac grinned evilly at Marius, who was on the verge of tears.

"Seriously. I knew about R, but the rest of you…" I shook my head, "Seriously? I always though y'all were better than this."

"Did you just say 'y'all'?" inquired teh 'Ferre.

"That's beside the point! Please tell me you're kidding!"

"Only if you tell us that you're kidding about your girlfriend Patria," proposed Feuilly.

"BUT PATRIA IS—"

"You have, like, the shortest temper ever," Joly noted.

Evil glare time. That always shuts them up.

"I will say this one more time, so all of you better listen! Patria does not exist in human form. Patria is a country. I love my country. I love Patria. C'est fini. Do. You. Understand?"

"OH! Like 'patr' means like country/patriot kinda thing, right?!" observed Courfeyrac.

"Sure. Just like that," I looked over to Combeferre if he knew where Courfeyrac was getting at, but the med student simply shrugged.

"Well, we really got a lot done tonight, didn't we?" Jehan said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door with Laigle and Bahorel at his heels.

"Wait, where are you going?" I was astonished. I glanced at the clock. We had only been here for 20 minutes!

"Sure did, Prouvaire," Feuilly began to leave too.

"What could we possibly have d—"

Joly interrupted me, "See ya around, Enj."

"Bye, 'Ferret!" Bossuet grinned as he followed Joly.

"Marius, let's go before the midgets get you again…" Courfeyrac hoisted the lovestricken lad out of his chair.

"Bye, guys," Marius waved as he and Courfeyrac left.

"Well, that's all of them," I looked at Combeferre.

"Bossuet called me a ferret…" he frowned.

"Oh, wait, R is still here," I leaned over to where the drunk was sitting, "_Aren't you going to leave to?_"

Grantaire hiccup, "Nah, Imma take a nap now, 'kay?"

Combeferre nodded somewhat approvingly, "All right, see you tomorrow, R."

R hiccupped in acknowledgement as 'Ferre and I left the Musain.

* * *

**BACK TO THE LETTER!**

_So, wait, what was your name…? Hold up, I gotta scroll back up to the page._

_Uh… Cupcakes. Yeah, 'cause I like cupcakes. Anyway, Cupcakes, I do not have a girlfriend. Or a girlfriend named Patria._

_Therefore, I do believe that you want me. 'Cause everyone wants me, it just happens. Unfortunately, my dear Cupcakes, I do not think I want you._

_--  
__Enjolras _

* * *


	2. In which there are Homosexual Brownies

A/N: So I was just being bored and not having a life and coming back from French Club when I noticed that I have not updated this fic since September. And then I left and said, "I'll write another chapter after winter break." And then I did.

And I have _**1**_firkkin review.

Thank you, LaurelAnichka, for reviewing. You should go tell other people to review now.

Anyway, without further ado, teh question o' doom and despair!

Wait, hold on, quick thing: If I don't update this fic before Tuesday the 23rd, I'd like to wish all y'all a very happy Festivus. :D

* * *

Dear Enjy,  
Are you gay? 'Cause, like you don't have a girlfriend and you like Grantaire a whole lot. So are you gay? I was just wondering. And if you're not, are you free on Saturday night?

Laurel

Dear Laurel,

Um… no I'm not gay what are you talking about? –shifty eyes- Nah, but seriously, I'm really not gay. ExceptwithCombeferrebutyoudidn'tknowthatahehe!

And I most def do NOT like Grantaire. Oh hell no. HELL NO!

I'm not gay. Even though I do like Will & Grace… and don't care for girls and run around with a group of guys singing for our rights.

That does not make me gay.

To prove this, I will tell you of one memorable birthday party that happened last year…

* * *

**DANS LE CAFÉ MUSAIN! MOINS UNE ANNÉE! **

As Combeferre and I entered the Musain, I quickly noticed streamers and balloons hanging everywhere. And a large group of girls in the corner.

Great.

"HAPPY BIRFDAY, ENJAROO!" Bossuet beamed, blowing a blow-y thing in my face.

"_BON ANNIVERSAIRE_, FEARLESS LEADER!" Courfeyrac copied the aforementioned bald guy.

"Mhm," grinned Bahorel, just 'cause he's that cool.

"Thanks for the party, _mes amis_, but I don't really know why _they're_ here," I gestured to the group of girls down yonder.

"What's a good party without girls, Enj?" Grantaire hiccupped, swinging his whiskey bottle.

"AHH! STDs!!" Joly and Marius screamed in unison, flailing their arms,

"STDs weren't invented yet, sillies!" reminded Combeferre.

Awkward silence. Joly sneezed.

"Birfday fan!" Feuilly threw the aforementioned fan at me. Picking it up off the ground, I noticed that it said "HAPPY BIRFDAY, ENJOLRAS!" in pretty pink cursive writing. That Feuilly, you could always count on him…

"Wanna here my poem, Enj?" Jehan asked, grinning ear-to-ear.

"Um… sure?" I fanned myself with my new fan.

Jehan cleared his throat:

"There was a fellow named Enjolras

Who had a birthday-olras.

With lots and lots of girls-olras.

And he wouldn't even look at them… olras…"

Everyone laughed. Jehan blushed, "I worked so hard on that guys!"

The Eagle of Meaux led me over to cluster of girls, "COME AND GET IT, _MES FILLES!_"

The horde of females shrieked and zoomed toward me. Bossuet conveniently got out of the way, even though one rather ugly girl ran after him screaming to see if she could see her reflection in his bald head. Crazy.

"Hey, Enjolras… ready for a great night?" one of them set me down in a nearby chair and lied across a table, and kept closing and spreading her legs.

And then she leaned over and kissed me. For a really long time.

Creeeeeep. She wasn't even that pretty.

I quickly got up and, before I knew it, I had been passed around from girl-to-girl. The last one gave a questionable gaze, but, fortunately, not to me.

"Cosette?" Marius squeaked.

"Marius? What the f-word are you doing here?" she said quickly.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, dear?" he snapped.

Seeking an opportunity to escape, I ran away from the estrogen-filled corner of the room and across the room to hide behind 'Ferre.

"I-I got a call from one of my, uh, friends that they were going to this party for this really hot guy," Cosette winked at me, "so I decided to come, I guess."

Another period of awkward silence.

"Do you want to leave, _ma chérie?_" Marius inquired. Cosette quickly nodded.

The two of them gone, Courfeyrac glared sneakily at me. A wide smile was beginning to form across his face.

I rapidly thought of an excuse to leave. I scanned the Musain, trying to see if Marius forgot something. Seeing nothing, I picked up some air off the ground and ran after him.

"MARIUS!" I hollered.

Bahorel caught me just as I was about to leave, "Nice try, Enj. You hafta get up pretty early in the morning to get one by ol' Bahor—"

"Oh! Look! Something you want to see! Over there!" I pointed into the empty abyss of the night in front of me.

"OOOOH! WHERE?" He quickly let me slide out of his grip and turned behind him.

Finally closing the door of my apartment behind me, I panted quickly. That was a terrible birthday party that I didn't even want.

"Enjolras!" came a high-pitched voice in my bedroom.

What. The. F-word.

Lighting a candle, I cautiously tip-toed to the area where the voice was coming from. If it was that ugly girl chasing after Bossuet, I swear I'll—I'll…

Cut them. I will cut them. That's right.

I opened the door, and, expecting the worst, I tightly shut my eyes, "Who is it?"

"Aw, c'mon, Enj, let's see those baby blues."

I opened my eyes and looked around. Gavroche was lying across my bed in a skirt he probably borrowed from one of his sisters. Next to him was Combeferre. I wondered how he managed to leave without any of the other Amis getting mad at him.

"Seriously, man, I've been waiting here for, like, an hour. You should really pick up the pace," Gavroche giggled.

"You're weird," I managed, hitting the hat off of his head.

Combeferre laughed, and then we all ate really yummy brownies that magically appeared out of the abyss.

Seriously.

* * *

**BACK TO THE LETTER…**

So there you have it, Laurel, I'm not gay. That girl I kissed was really creepy though, and, to be honest, I don't really like her. She didn't even give me her name or anything! She was probably a-- OH! I GET IT!

Oh, and I do like brownies. I like brownies a lot. :D

As for Saturday night… I will not go out with you. However, if you make me some brownies and give them to me, I will gladly accept them and maybe, _maybe_, give you a hug. That's the most I can do.

--  
Cheers,  
Enjolras


	3. In which Gay Jehan & Scary Javert Appear

A/N: Thanks, reviewers! I—I mean Enjolras :D—will be getting to all of your questions shortly. Except Sofricus's… 'cause it's right here… Ah, well. Have a Merry Erev Christmas, and don't be surprised if there's a Les Amis Chanukah fic up here tomorrow… -shifty eyes-

DISCLAIMER: Don't own Les Mis or 'Bon Qui Qui,' or James Madison. Oh, wait, yes I do! :D (Not!)

Beware of non-accuracies! (JVJ isn't alone with Jav at his not-really-execution-at-the-barricades, Enjy and Jehan are there too! And Jehan doesn't die. And Les Amis win! Yay!)

And listen to "The Scarlet Pimpernel" in Austrian. It's frikkin hilarious! :D

* * *

Dear Enj-your-a*s

Rest assured, I do not want to go out with you. But I have a request.  
If I join your rebellion AND give you brownies AND stab Grantaire with a pencil, will you put in a good word for me with Javvie? (If you forgot, he's the really hot policeman spy you tied to a chair during your rebellion and let the old guy shoot. Except he didn't die.)  
Thanks so much!

~Sofricus

P.S. My friends and I have been wondering...Is Jehan gay?

Darling Sofricus,

_Merci très, très, très, très, très,TRÈS beaucoup_ for not writing me another love letter! I'm not really sure who this 'Javvie' is, but I will do my best to put in a good word for you if you make me brownies! Lots and lots of brownies. Oh, the revolution is important, but brownies are incredibly more so. And—OH! I GET IT! 'Javvie' is Poopface McSpypants—Inspector Javert! J-word Christ, do I hate him! But, if enough brownies are made, I'll tell him about you, dear Sofricus. Or not. :D

But Javert? Seriously? Yick!

Even though those sideburns are kinda sick-nasty…

Anyways, I'm guessing you don't know what really happened after Gavroche told us that _votre cher inspecteur_ was a spy. Well, it does, in a way, answer part two of your question: Jehan's sexual orientation…

* * *

**AT THE BARRICADES OF FREEDOM! :D**

"Guys, Javert is a spy," Gavroche explained.

"Oh noes!" shouted Inspector Javert in a non-sarcastic manner, flailing his arms.

"Boy, I will cut you!" said Courfeyrac Qui Qui.

Javert made a strange utterance as Jehan and I tied him to a chair while Bahorel and Courfeyrac Qui Qui poked him with multiple sticks.

And then M. Annoying Valannoying stopped our fun, "Aw, c'mon, why don't you guys just frikkin shoot him already?!"

"BANG!" Jehan hollered.

"Very good, Jehan," Feuilly patted him on the back.

"What the f-word, Jehan? Stop being such a frau!" I scolded my "well-dressed" friend.

"Butbutbut—oof!" Jehan muttered a la Ron Weasley Puppet Pal

Combeferre stopped another awkward silence from happening, "Well, that does seem rational…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, 'Ferre! Since when are you the leader?" I pouted.

Combeferre was going to say something, but then he didn't.

"Can y'all hurry it up, please? I have an appointment with Napoleon in heaven once I die," Javert sneered.

"DIE, COMMIE B-WORD!" I screamed as I untied Javert and led him to an alley behind the café, Jehan and Valjean (lawlz!) at my heels.

"Commie? _Je ne comprend pas_…" Jehan cocked his head to the side inquisitively once we reached our destination.

"Y'know… I'm not really sure… but it does sound good, no?" I smiled, now leaning on my trusty gun that I will not shoot my eye out with.

"So, do we, like kill him now?" Jehan asked.

"No!" Oldfart Valoldfart screamed like a little girl.

"Shut up, Valjean, seriously," Javert snapped.

I shrugged, "I 'spose so…" I leveled my gun and then one thing changed my mind:

"Enjolras!" I could hear Combferre yelling as the gunfire slowly halted.

_Oh, great_ I thought as I leaned on my carbine again, "What is so important, my dear Combeferre, that you have to stop me from killing an officer of the lawr/spyface mcgee?"

"Aww! Enjy said 'lawr'!" Jehan squealed.

"What has gotten into you today?" I asked the poet.

Jehan sighed lovingly, "Javert…" He then proceeded to huggle the aforementioned inspector.

Did I just say huggle? No, didn't think so. Shut up.

"Is he okay?" Combeferre asked as his thoughts most likely wandered to poking Jehan with a spork until he regretted his scary actions towards Javert.

Or maybe that's what I was thinking? Ah, it is of no matter…

"We're not too sure about good ol' Jehan-y boy here," I patted the possibly homosexual lad on the back, "Anyways, what were you going to tell me, 'Ferre?"

"Oh, yanno… The National Guard surrendered and it looks like we won," he said nonchalantly.

"WHAT?!" Javert. Jehan, and I screamed in unison. Valstupidface thought about raping James Madison, even though the former president was now eighty-one.

Jehan then wiped some imaginary dirt off his spotless bright purple vest and thought the same thoughts as Valraper, but replaced Madison with Javert.

I looked at Combeferre, grinning for one of the first times in my life "WE WON!" I shouted as I grabbed his waist and waltzed with him around the alleyway.

I mean, no I didn't! –shifty eyes- Le sigh…

A few days later I was walking with Jehan along the Seine River talking about how much we would like some waffles when we both ran into a not-really-friend that was somewhat familiar.

"Hey, Javvie!" Jehan cried, running over to the former spy, "Long time no see!"

"Uh… yeah, Jehan…" Javert said uncomfortably.

"Whatcha doin'?" Jehan giggled.

"Oh, ya know, about to drown myself in the Seine. The usual."  
"That's good," I nodded.

"What? No, it's not! Think of all the good times we had, Javzies!" Jehan pleaded. Javert was confused.

It was at this moment I knew Jehan was the fairiest fairy of them all. And by fairy I mean G-A-Y-M-C-A. And by G-A-Y-M-C-A I mean gay.

And then I remembered something important, "Hey, Javertface! I'm supposed to tell you that this girl… Sofri-something… wants your babies…or something!?"

Javert stopped in his tracks and looked at me, "What did you say?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Did you say that someone wants to do _it_ with me?!" he shuddered slightly when he said 'it.'

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, Jav, I'm just saying…"

He stepped back from the bridge railing over the river, "I think I shall delay my suicide, M. Enjolras. Thank you very much," Javert then cheerfully frolicked away—a sight I hope to never see again.

After he was gone, Jehan looked at me disapprovingly, "Well thanks oodles, Enj. Way to ruin my chance with the oh-so-desirable Javert."

"You're a creep, Jehan. _Allons y_ and make some poor people happy, mmk?" I slapped his back.

"Oh, fine," Jehan sighed and then started to tell me about this new lime green velvet coat he had recently bought to match his orange pants.

Where does he even get orange pants anyway? That Jehan, I tell you…

* * *

**BACK TO THE LETTER!**

So, Sofricus, don't be surprised if Javert/"Javvie" –shudder- randomly appears on your doorstep one night with flowers.

I'm expecting those brownies soon. Like, now.

The sign-up sheet for the revolution can be found in your local high school cafeteria next to the vending machine on the left. :D

Cheers,

Enjolras


	4. In which Enjolras is Lizzie Borden kinda

A/N: Hey, guys! So I have a snow day today and I just got a new computer. (It's a new iMac named Sydney Carton actually) To celebrate, I decided to write a new chapter of AAE!

And not only is this a new chapter, but it's an EXTRA SUPER SPECIAL AWESOME MEGA CHAPTER! WITH THREE QUESTIONS!! -le gasp!-

Kinda... I basically combined all of **Ladyoflalaland**'s questions into one, but, hey, it's the same thing. Yeah..

And sorry for not updating in forever. I'm in this crazy hippie play of doom aka 'Hair: the American Tribal Love-Rock Musical.' It's... interesting at that. But more of 'Hair' later. 'cause it's chappie time! ^^

* * *

Dear Enjolras,

Okay, so I have a few questions...

Why are you so cold/distant all the time? And what happened to make you so intense about the revolution? What is your most embarrassing secret? I know that you'll tell it to me... And... say I had this...time machine... and I somehow went into Les Miserables, kidnapped you, and forced you to marry me... what would you do? (hypothetically speaking, of course... I would NEVER EVER think of doing something like that... even in my imagination... I think... :D)

Love your numba 1 devoted fan,

Ladyoflalaland

--

Okay, wow. That's a lot of questions, Ladyoflalaland...

First of all: I am not cold and distant. You are just mean and prejudiced. Ha.

Second: The revolution is really really important, even more important than brownies. Really.

Third: My most embarrassing secret is... well you'll find out if you keep reading... :D

Fourth: (wow) I think I would go all Lizzie Borden on your a*s. That is most def a big possibility... But if you make brownies, who knows what will happen...? ^^

Hmm... I'm trying to think of a story from years past that can relate to this... This is hard, so hold up.

OH! I got it! How could I ever forget that really short-lived meeting in which Grantaire, Roger Davis, and these two strange girls all proposed to me! No joke, guys. No f-in joke.

* * *

**_A LA BEAU CAFÉ DE MUSAIN FUNTIMES!_**

"Okay, guys, this has gone on long enough. We've got barely anything done, and the revolution is set to take action in a little over a month. I understand that finals are around that same time, but seriously, what's more important than a free country?" I growled as I kept banging my fist on a table.

"Medical finals," Joly frowned. And sneezed.

"I second that," Combeferre nodded.

"GUYS! Come on! We can't call ourselves 'Friends of the Undercrust' if we don't do anything to help the crusty under everything!" Marius said in a rare fit of passion.

"What the hell, Mar?" Courfeyrac tilted his head to the side in an inquisitive fashion.

"Yes, Marius, would you like to share something with the rest of the class," I asked as I was actually prepared to listen to him.

"Vive Napoleon," he then proceeded to shrink into his chair and cry.

Win!

"Hey, Enj, I gotta question for ya," Grantiare hiccupped.

Oh, great... "What is it, winecask?" I rolled my eyes.

He then put his bottle down, a big feat if I may say, and dropped down to one knee whilst holding out a ring that was formerly under the cap to one of his whiskey bottles.

"Enjolras, will you marry me?"

"Uh... Grantiare, you okay?" Courfeyrac looked at him creepily.

"What the f, David Blaine?!" screeched Jehan.

It was just then when a strange zapping noise thought of coming out of the abyss, and with it came a young man and two teenage girls.

Oh, great... again...

"ZOMFGBBQ IT'S ENJOLRAS!" yelled one girl.

"IN THE FLESH!" yelled the other.

(* Here I would put Ha ha ha," laughed the Wickersham Brothers except only, like, 2 people would get it... D: *)

"WE'RE GOING TO MARRY HIM!" they yelled together.

The man looked at the two girls like they were Rene Auberjonois in his most creepiest state and knelt on a table with his guitar.

"MIMIIIIII!" he screamed. And then he played something on his guitar Jehan would later tell us was from Puccini's La Bohème.

The man that got off the table and knelt before me and took my hand.

"Mimi." he smiled, "will you marry me?"

"QU'EST-CE QUE C'EST QUE CA?" I hollered, snatching my hand back, "IF ONE MORE PERSON F-WORD-IN PROPOSES TO ME TONIGHT, I'LL--" then I motioned to Courfeyrac.

"He will cut you," nodded Courfeyrac Qui Qui.

The man with the guitar stepped back, "Wait... you're not Meemz, what the h-word just happened?"

"Hoo boy," Feuilly sighed like that one time when he was waiting for the Great Menorah.

Combeferre took out a piece of paper that must've appeared out f that same abyss that brought the two girls and one man over here and began to start a tally, "So that's one from Grantaire... One... or two?... No, one from those two girls over there... And one from the guy wit the guitar who really didn't mean to..."

"Is that the proposal tally?" Bahorel laughed.

"Yup yup!" grinned 'Ferre. i must later to Courfeyrac Qui Qui to cut him.

"Okay, listen up, I'm Roger... Davis, mmk? I am not 'that guy with the guitar!' And, I'm totes sorry, man," he gestured to me, "I really don't want to marry you. Hate to burst your bubble, Tallyman," He snickered at 'Ferre.

"Come. Mr Tallyman, tally me banana--" Lesgles began

"Daylight come and me wan' go ho-ome...!" Joly and Feuilly finished.

"What the hell 'zat?" I asked.

"Um... just a super secret song we're writing that you're not allowed to know about..." the three of them looked at each other suspiciously.

"Well, now that Roger Guitar is out of the way, my offer is still open, Enj!" Grantaire smiled, giving off the air of whiskey and leaned towards my face.

"Do it! Do it!" the rest of the Amis cheered.

"R, no. No no no. I swear to the Lordy Lou that if you kiss me I'll--"

And then he kissed me. For two whole disgusting minutes. And good ol' Lesgles held us together so I couldn't break free.

When the horrid act was over, I went behind the bar and got a glass of water so that I could breathe again without dying.

"Courfeyrac Qui Qui, why the f-word didn't you cut him?" I growled.

"Dude, that was so frikkin hilarious, I couldn't help but--"

"_TAIS TOI_! We're all here to make plans for a revolution three-fourths of us don't want to do because their either studying for finals or not caring. And I have had three--four--people propose to me tonight and then I had to f-word-in kiss f-word-in GRANTAIRE AND NO ONE F-WORD-IN STOPPED HIM!" I went over to the corner to pout.

"Oooh! How embarrassing!" Jehan squealed, walking over to me.

"Geez, guys... Now if someone doesn't either tell R and those girls to withdraw their marriage proposals and/or present me with brownies in the next minutes, I swear to you that heads will roll," I sternly said, giving each of them an extra-special death glare.

"Oh, wouldn't Robespierre be proud..." Combeferre snickered.

"Guys, I'm super cereal!" I then wielded an axe I found in the back-room and pointed it towards Girl #1. Lizzie Borden has nothing on me right now.

"'kay, Enj, calm down..." Bahored said seriously (or should I say super cereal-y?), even though I could totally tell he was trying really hard to suppress a giggle.

So during the next minute, the two girls crawled back into the abyss, Grantaire was dragged home by Courfeyrac, and Lesgles and Joly went into the kitchen to make brownies. Life was good once more.

* * *

**BACK TO THE LETTER!!**

Okay, Ladyoflalaland, there you have it,

My most embarrassing moment, the Amis hatin' on the Revolution, and me saying no to your proposal via the two girls, once of which might have been you, _mais je ne sais pas_... All right-y then...

Till next time,

Enjolras


	5. In which there are no YuGiOh! references

A/N: Uhm. Hi. Wanna talk about how I haven't updated this in a year and half?

Yeah, 'bout that...

I started the other question about The Enjolras Name Pronunciation Thing, but I don't know how to end it and then **EuphrasieTheOwl** reviewed this fic and gave me hope and then I wanted to write again. So I am. -insert Luke Skywalker plus Obi-Wan Kenobi reference here-

I like _Star Wars_. Han Solo is my homeboy, but that's a whole 'nother can of waffles.

MY CAT JUST CAME IN MY ROOM YAYAYAYAYYY! (his name is Luckerford B. Hayes, nbd)

Watch 'Yu-Gi-Oh!: The Abridged Series.' Nao.

* * *

Dear Auntie Enjolras,

Okay, so you claim to be straight, (are you 100 percent sure?...like I think you can get this genetically tested.) And, I was wondering, would you swing the other way for Robespierre? 'Cause that's like loving the Republic and and an actual person. Or Marat? Rousseau even?

An Revolutionary Owl.

Dear Owl,

First of all, it should be 'A Revolutionary Owl,' not "An." You're dumb. We're not friends. Harrumph.

Jaykayyyy lawl.

Anywhoodles, what was your questionnn... Uh... Kay, so basically you're asking would I would bat for the other team if I could chase me some dead French guy tail.

Uhm, is that even a question...? Like, Robespierre and Marat ftw! DUHHHH WHO WOULDN'TTTTT? lololololol XD

But not Rousseau. Rousseau reminds me of Danielle Rousseau (aka Creeperface McGee) from _Lost_, and we are not friends. Also, the_ Lost_ finale made me an angry panda. But, that's a whoooole other story...

Why am I typing really obnoxious today? Ah, well.

Anecdote time!

* * *

**FRANCE IS A COUNTRY FILLED WITH ROSES AND DOVES NAMED PIERRE AND IT IS ALSO WHERE THIS ANECDOTE TAKES PLACE**

As I was not playing children's card games with Combeferre, I did not hear nor see Marius waltz into the Musain, located in lovely Paris, France, at approximately 8:46 PM on a Friday night.

Okay, well maybe I did.

"Whaddup, homiez?" Marius said as he made a peace sign with his left hand.

"Shaddup, Mar, ghettoes haven't really even been invented yet," Grantaire slurred.

"Pfft, whatever. Y'allz be hatin'."

"Marius... just... just... stop," I sighed as I did not play my BLUE EYES WHITE DRAGON (TM). Which I didn't. 'Cause 'Ferre and I were most def not playing children's card games based on some Egyptian something. Nopeee.

I looked up at the sad lonely boy that was Marius Pontmercy, who decided to come chill in the Musain with us this evening. He was reading some law book or something, actually pretending to be studious or something. Wow.

"Imma go talk to Marius 'cause I feel like bothering him. Is that mmkayz, mon petit 'Ferret?"

"But, Enjykins, you can't just walk out of a children's card game! That's against the rules!" 'Ferre cried.

"Screw the rules, I have an red vest!"

"Uhm, shouldn't it be 'a red vest?'" 'Ferre said as he attempted to correct me.

"Well, in my world 'an' only comes before consonants. Like 'an revolutionary.'"

"You're just making fun of a certain owl named Euphrasie, aren't you?" 'Ferre sighed.

"You bet your sweet smellin' socks I am!" I grinned.

"Ah, well, then... I believe that you have some rules to screw?"

"Damn skippy I do!"

I moseyed on over to everyone's favorite Bonaparte enthusiast. (That's pronounced Buonparte, derp.)

"What's kickin', yo'?" I asked as I pulled over a chair.

"Ehhh for lawyer school place I have to learn about all these dead French guys who did important stufffff," Marius whined.

I looked at the textbook he was reading, "Robespierreee! Oh, mon cher Maxipoo... I mean, like, he was creepy as hell, but he did get the job done, ya know?"

"Lolwut?" Marius cocked his head to the left in an inquisitive fashion.

"And like, Marat was all like 'Imma go write newspapers!' _L'ami du peuple_, now that was some good stuff... And then that little trampy b-word Charlotte Corday went all Lizzie Borden on his a-word. Just. To. Piss. Me. Off," I growled. Marat was basically my little kitten.

"Rousseau is in the book, too! Tell me about himmmm!" Marius said like an eight-year-old wanting his parents to buy him a stuffed puffin in Norway at Epcot.

"No. He wasn't even born in France! He's, like, from Switzerland or something... probably stole all their watches and hot chocolate when he was a kid. Jerk."

"So... wanna teach me about Robespierre and Marat and their relationship to things I learned in lawyer school place? Plzzz!"

"Say 'please' and I'll consider it."

"PWEASE! PLEEZ! PLEASE!"

"Well... let's start off by saying Marat is totes a MILF..."

"A what now?"

"A MILF... Man I'd Like to... uh... Friend?"

Combeferre and Grantaire bursted out laughing at my Disney-ified version of MILF. Well, Marius isn't quite ready to handle (or handre) this kind of information yet, sorry.

Anywhoodles:

"Oh, I get it, Enj! So you're saying Marat would make a really great friend and he was a friend of the people, right?" Marius asked.

"Yup... I would so tap that, I mean what?"

Silence. Even Grantaire stopped slurping his absinthe.

"I think it's time to go now, Enjeroni and Cheese..." Combeferre grabbed his coat and was starting to get mine.

"You didn't just call me-"

"Nope, what are you talking about?"

"Good... well, I guess it is past 'Ferret's bedtime so I should help him get home," I sighed, taking my coat from the aforementioned ferret.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to be attacked by midgets or anything," Combeferre glared at Marius.

"THAT WAS ONE TIME, LIKE, LAST YEAR! GET OVER IT! I don't like to talk about," Marius's lower lip quivered indicating that he was on the verge of tears.

"Peace out, boy scout!" I said to Grantaire and Marius as 'Ferre and I left the Musain. I don't care if the Boy Scouts wouldn't be invented for, like, another 60 years or something, that saying is just super special awesome. Believe it!

* * *

**BACK TO THE FUTURE**

So yeah... I guess I am pretty much available to dead French revolutionaries who go by their last name. Except Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 'cause he's not cool and the social contract sucks. Or maybe it doesn't. Pfft, whatevs.

I guess I'm more like uh... 97.4% sure that I'm straight, then. Heh heh... C'est la vie.

Well, I gotta go not watch 'Sailor Moon' right now, 'cause that would be sooooo hella lame. Hella.

BELIEVE IT!

Your old pal Enjolras


	6. In which there is a GIRL!

A/N: So my friend was supposed to cure my _Hunchback of Notre Dame_ Disney movie phobia that I have had since forever at approximately 2:00 today, but then she decided to be too tired. Harrumph.

other things I'm afraid of: Nicolas Cage and 85% of all Disney movies

movie that i saw two times in one week: _Toy Story 3_. GO SEE IT IT'S AWESOME KTHXBAI.

disclaimer: I own nothing that isn't mine. Like Les Mis, Law & Order, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Spaceballs... ya know...

special thanks: to **Mlle Patria **and the LMFFI Marie-Suzanne (Mary Sue) Generator.

fun fact: France is to Enjolras like what the Ocean is to Mako from YGOTAS. True life.

* * *

Dear Enjolras,

Hugo says that no women were permitted into the meetings in the back room of the cafe Musain. Why wouldn't you let women in? If I wanted to join your cause (and yes actually for your cause not just to fangirl, since I was completely in love with Jehan but learned a few chapters ago that he doesn't swing that way) would you not let me in just because I'm a girl? Egalite means everyone pal!

-Mlle Patria

_Ma chère mademoiselle,_

So, like, first of all, girls have cooties, so like why would we even let them be in the same room as me - I mean _Les Amis de l'ABC_ - in the first place? We would all catch cooties and die a slow, painful, cootie death.

Also, the _Amis_, like Bill Clinton and Tony Blair, have a special relationship, and brotherhoods tend to not go so well when there is a girl trying to get into said brotherhood.

So basically girls, like female sportscasters, should be at home making sandwiches.

How would you like an anecdote about a delicious sandwich I had once? Well...

* * *

**IN THE COUNTRY OF FRANCE, WHERE THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS WATER THE MEADOWS**

Okay, so this one time I was at the Musain and... hold on Combeferre's trying to talk to me. I'll write down what we're talking about so it can be preserved for posterity!

* * *

**ME 'N' COMBEFERRE'S CONVERSATIONKINZ!**

"Enj," Combeferre began, "I sincerely hope that you are not writing about sandwiches rather than addressing the serious matter that the questioneer brings up."

"Questioneer? Is that even a word?" I asked.

"Although Mac Pages of iWork 2009 says that it isn't, I say it is! Anyways, you should tell the questioneer about Marie-Suzanne."

"Marie-Suzanne! You said you would never bring her up again!" I gasped.

"Just write about it... I think it'll do you good," my darling 'Ferret patted me on the shoulder before he exited the room.

Sighing, I turned back to face my laptop and began writing... D-word, that 'Ferre is so convincing!

* * *

**IN PARIS THE PEOPLE ARE REPRESENTED BY TWO SEPARATE, YET EQUALLY IMPORTANT GROUPS: THE RICH PEOPLE WHO DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING AND **_**LES AMIS DE L'ABC**_** WHO FIGHT FOR THE RIGHTS OF THE POOR. THESE ARE THEIR STORIES**_**.**_

_**(duh duh)**_

It was a quiet Thursday evening. I had just beaten 'Ferre in a children's card game and my BLUE EYES WHITE DRAGON (TM) was totally safe. His DARK MAGICIAN (TM), however, was not because now it was mine and I was not letting 'Ferre forget it.

Actually, now that I think about it, the meetings would be a lot shorter if we didn't play Yu-Gi-Oh/children's card games all the time. Eh, whatever...

So anyway, it was a quiet Thursday evening. Well, almost quiet... Jehan had just learned how to play "Scarborough Fair" on his flute and was playing it in the corner. That was actually pretty cool. Combeferre told me that "Scarborough Fair" has been around since 1670. So, it was like, older than me... which isn't saying much. It's an awesome song nevertheless.

IT WAS A QUIET THURSDAY EVENING. Besides me, there were only five other _Amis_ present; Marius, Combeferre, Feuilly, Jehan, and, of course, Grantaire.

I know what you're thinking... 'Marius? Why would he ever come to anything?'

Well, because he hadn't met Cosette yet so he actually pretended to care about revolutions. So. There.

All of a sudden, Courfeyrac comes bursting in with this girl who everyone thought was pretty. Everyone, that is, except me, because I was in love with my country and she is the prettiest, er, land mass I know. Yeah.

So everyone runs up to this girl who was really weird looking. I mean, not like weird in a bad way, but, hold on, Jehan wrote it down somewhere let me find it...

Ah, here it is! "She has eyes of sparkling indigo and boyishly short platinum blonde hair. She is fluent in twelve languages and is remarkably tall for a girl."

What a poet, that Jean Prouvaire.

Anyway, we were all gathered around Courfeyrac and his new arm candy.

"What's ya name, sweetie?" R managed between hiccups.

"Hello, comrades! My name is Marie-Suzanne. I would love to help you with your revolution."

I cringed, almost accidentally crumpling up my new DARK MAGICIAN (TM) card in the process. I waved Fricassee over and ordered some water.

"Ahhhh! You said 'comrades'! Like Russia, which is kind of by the bestest country in the world aka Poland! Yayyyy we're going to be new best friends!" Feuilly squealed.

"How do you know Courfeyrac?" Combeferre asked as he adjusted his glasses.

"Ah, that's a good question. You see, I am Courfeyrac's father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate," the new girl smiled.

Courfeyrac smiled at Marie-Suzanne, "What's that make us?"

"Absolutely nothing!" she reminded him.

I had heard this conversation whilst I was casually sipping my water.

And then I heard that she had been Courfeyrac's blah blah blah's ROOMMATE!

I spit my water out, "ROOMMATE? You went to college? BUT YOU'RE A GIRL!"

Marie-Suzanne directed her gaze towards me, "Yeah, that's what I thought you would say... I was the roommate of Courfeyrac's father's brother's nephew's cousin... at an all-girls' boarding school. There is nothing for _you_ to worry about, monsieur."

For the rest of the "meeting" that night, all of the _Amis_ were crowded around her, asking her opinions on things. I would not stoop so low as to ask a _girl _a question, so I sat there in the corner, watching.

The next two meetings went the same. It was like she was the new me, and I was _not_ about to let that happen. Combeferre had suggested that Marie-Suzanne and I work as a team. Yeah, like that was ever going to happen! She should be at home making some guy a sandwich, not parading around like a revolutionary!

Fortunately, the day came where everyone else realized that they could not have a girl as a leader.

"I said I wanted a barricade on these streets, not _those _streets! YOU IDIOTS!" Marie-Suzanne screamed in a fit of Parisian Rage.

"Sorry, Marie-Suzanne, but Enjolras said that we were to-" Jehan began.

"_Enjolras? _Why would any of you ever listen to that male version of a porcelain doll?" she scoffed.

All of the guys looked at her.

"Hey, girly, Enj is our leader, he started this group. He's the reason we're fighting for the undercrusts' rights," Combeferre said.

"But I... I..." Marie-Suzanne attempted to begin, but she found out that she was now the recipient of, including me, six evil death glares. Mine was the best of course.

"If you think that you are going to control this group..." Courfeyrac began.

"Then you can _git_ out!" Marius cried in a southern accent, which we soon after begged him never to do again.

Blinking back tears, Marie-Suzanne looked at the _Amis_.

"You guys are all a bunch of... of... of... nincompoops!" she cried as she ran out of the Musain.

Triumphantly, I stood at the doorpost and watched her run away, "Yeah, run! Run, ya ninny!"

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to face my friends.

"Sorry, Enj, we'll never let a girl in our group again!" R smiled.

"Yeah, they're _way _too hormonal," Feuilly agreed.

"And they have cooties," Marius squeaked.

"And besides, everyone knows that I am the token girl around here," Jehan smiled as the rest of us laughed.

And then we got down to business to defeat the the Huns - er, upper-class.

* * *

**BACK TO THE FUTURE, PART II**

So, there you have it, Mlle. Patria. Girls are just way to moody and hormonal to successfully start a rebellion and such. I'm sure you're a very nice girl and all, but face it, we all know how you guys can be when something doesn't go your way...

Am I right? Of course I am.

Now, if you'll excuse me... I have some Mozart to listen to and some baby pandas to save.

Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto!

En-Jo-Lr-As-Oh!

Ew, that looks weird, doesn't it? Yeah well too bad.

Well, as they don't say in France, _Auf widersehen!_

Enjolras.


	7. In which a parody of The Hangover occurs

A/N: What's this? Two updates in the same month?

To quote _Family Guy_'s Chris Griffin/Luke Skywalker per _Something Something Something Dark Side_: "Whaaaaaaaaaat?

Well, I figured that I might as well... I leave for band camp and then I have to get into field hockey/marching band/school mode again and I won't be as happy because of this little thing called applying for college. But enough about me, how are you?

Thanks to **Insanemistosingsmore** for being the questioneer! :D

Also, while you're waiting for next chapter, please read my new Hetalia fic, "Hetalia: Broadway Series!" It's kinda like what I did with "Les Mizzicals" only this time it's in Hetalia form!

Disclaimer: I don't own things. Especially "The Hangover." -le sad-

* * *

NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO...

Dear Aunty Enjolras,

In a hypothetical situation where Courfeyrac got a Vegas wedding and chose 'Ferre as the best man over you, how would you react? And I apologize for the drool mark near Courfeyrac's name...I'm the bride, and my dog got a hold of this letter before I sent it.

Hope to hear back from you!

Singsmore.

AKA

the new Mme Courfeyrac

Dear Mme Singsmore Courfeyrac,

Well, you're quite fortunate to have asked this question, because I come fully prepared with an answer. Y'see, the _Amis_ have had this conversation many times, and it was decided that I was to be the best man and that Jehan was to be the flower girl. Courfeyrac, 'Ferre, Jehan, and I would all go to Las Vegas for his bachelor party and then fly lickety-split back to Paris so he could get married.

And this all worked out really well... except...

* * *

**SOMEWHERE IN LAS VEGAS**

"AWYEAH THIS IS ABOUT TO BE AWESOME!" Courfeyrac shouted as we entered our huge suite at Caesar's Palace.

We all high-fived, and then Jehan suggested that we all go onto the roof and to bring some drinks with us because he had something to say.

On the way up, I heard Combeferre mutter in my ear, "I was supposed to be the best man, ya know."

"Yeah, and then we decided that you're more like Stu and I'm more like Phil from 'The Hangover' so get over it!" I snapped back.

"After all, Enj is the prettiest and you're kind of a doctor, so it all works out," Courfeyrac said.

'Ferre frowned and sighed, continuing his way up the steps.

When we got to the roof we all waited for Jehan to talk.

After he cleared his throat he began, "Before I met you guys, I was one puffin in a lone puffin pack... And then I met Courfeyrac, and then my lone puffin pack became two, and he introduced me to Enjolras and Combeferre and then my two-puffin puffin pack grew to a four-puffin puffin pack, and now we are all here on top of Caesar's Palace about to have one of the best nights of our sexy French lives!"

As he was talking, I noticed him put some little white tablets into our drinks. "What's that, Jehan?" I asked.

"Nuffin, just some sugar to make it sweeter."

"Uh... huh..."

'Ferre smiled and broke the awkward silence. He lifted his glass, "To Courfeyrac!"

We clinked glasses and had a great night.

I awoke the next morning to Combeferre singing along whilst playing piano:

_What does Enjolras dream of, when he takes a little Enjolras snooze?_

_Does he dream of fighting Frenchies, or Jean-Paul Marat in a catwoman suit?_

_Don't you worry your pretty blond head, we're gonna get you back to Paris and your uncomfortable bed._

_And then we're gonna find our best friend Courfey, and then we're gonna give him his hotel room key._

_Coooourfey, Cooourfeyy, Courfey Courfey Courfey Courf Courf..._

_But if he's been murdered by some rabid fangirls..._

_Well then we're just out of luck._

I jolted out of where I was sleeping, which I learned two seconds later had been the couch. So then I fell on the floor. After I had regained control of my feet, I stood up and pointed my finger at 'Ferre and shouted:

"YOU LOST COURFEYRAC?"

He and Jehan exchanged looks, "Uh... no?" they said in unison.

"Then where is he?" I asked.

"I dunno!" smiled Jehan.

I pouted, "Do you guys have any idea of where he may be?"

'Ferre pointed to a pink trucker hat on the floor under the piano at which he had been playing. It had a picture of Courfeyrac and some girl on it. Jehan picked it up and handed it to me.

I read the small print to the side of the picture, "'Best Little Chapel?'"

"I guess we were there last night, we should go check it out," Combeferre suggested.

The three of us then got dressed and headed over to the apparently was the best, and the most smallest, chapel.

We went inside and found a man behind the counter. He hugged each of us and said that he needed to show us something.

He went into his back room and pulled out a wedding album. Inside the front cover was a note, in Courfeyrac's handwriting. Combeferre read it aloud.

"July 21st. Mood - Totally rad

Darling Singsmore,

I still remember the first day we met, which was today about two hours ago. We fell in love instantly and had decided to get married. Enjolras, 'Ferre, and Jehan the Fairy were our wedding party. We were standing at the altar, and then something very unexpected happened. You exploded. Yeah... that was kinda weird.

In my grief the guys and Jehan took me to the movies. We saw _Toy Story 3_. Three times. Once in 3D, but it wasn't very good so we saw it once more in 2D. I cried at the end every time. But anyway...

While we were there, this fat guy named Charles asked me to come with him because he had to show me something very important on his 'COMPUTOR.' I agreed and followed him to his apartment..."

I looked at 'Ferre, "What the hell?"

He returned my gaze, "I concur, sir."

"HAHA THAT RHYMES!" Jehan laughed like Mozart in _Amadeus_.

'Ferre rolled his eyes and continued to read:

"...followed him to his apartment. He said that he knew where you were, Singsmore, and he went on to this thing called, uh, '." He said your name on this site was 'Insanemistosingsmore.'

And in that instant, I saw you and we were reunited. I thought my dreams had finally come true. But then you exploded. Again. You really need to stop doing that..."

Combeferre set the letter down and looked as if he had just seen a taco and a waffle perform the hula/luau scene from _The Lion King_. I'm very good at analogies, as you can tell.

He looked at the man behind the counter and said, "So, basically, Courfeyrac almost got married last night?"

The man laughed and introduced himself Keith, "Yeah, and it was totally hilarious! But, no, he got married and then right after that the girl just exploded. Weird stuff, that's for sure..."

Combeferre and I looked at each other and asked Keith at the same time, "Who was the best man?"

"Blondie. Courfeyrac said it was because of someone named Phil or something."

"In. Your. Face," I said to 'Ferre as I did not gloat.

"Was I a super special awesome flower girl?" Jehan squealed.

Keith patted him on the head, "Of course you were, dear."

"Do you have any idea who this 'Charles' guy is? We think Courfeyrac could still be at his house," 'Ferre said.

"Uh... I'm not sure. There was a fat guy named Charles who was at the ceremony last night... maybe that's your guy?" Keith brought out what looked like a wedding guestbook thingy from behind the counter. He found Charles's name and address and wrote it down for us.

"Good thing it was in walking distance," I said as I walked with my two friends to Charles's dwelling. We were very fortunate that it had been only a few blocks away.

"No... it's... not..." Jehan panted as his pace slowed down.

Combeferre had been whistling Mozart's "Piano Concerto No. 15 In B-Flat Major K450: Allegro" the whole time. I mean, not like I know the song off the top of my head or anything...

"Why are you whistling that?" I asked.

"'Cause ya know in _Amadeus _when Mozart is walking down some street in Vienna before he goes home and then his dad is creepily waiting for him on the stairs?"

"Sure..." Jehan and I said together.

"Yeah, well that's the song in the background that he is walking to. And it makes a super special awesome walking song, if I do say so myself!"

Jehan and I looked at each other for a few seconds before Jehan pointed out that we were at Charles's apartment.

"Hello?" 'Ferre asked he knocked politely on the door.

"No," came the answer from inside.

"That's not how you do it!" I exclaimed as I tut-tutted my bespectacled friend. I pounded on the door, "HEY! LET US IN!"

"No."

"No!" Jehan pushed me out of the way, "Geez, haven't you guys seen _Blazing Saddles_?" he cleared his throat and said in a southern accent, "Teleeegram! Teleeegram for Charles!"

"OH BOY!" came the voice from inside and we heard him rush towards the door and open it.

"Sucka!" Jehan grinned as the three of us rushed passed him.

"Guys! Help!" came Courfeyrac's muffled cry in the next room.

He was bound, gagged, and was watching what appeared to be _Beverly Hills Chihuahua_.

"I love this movie!" Jehan clapped.

I tore the gag off. "Save me from the CGI chihuahuas, guys!" Courfeyrac cried.

The four of us sneakily sneaked into the next room where the exit was. We saw Charles looking out the door, asking where his telegram went. He shrugged and closed the door. Lucky for us, he did not notice us as he walked away to another room.

We quickly opened the door and ran out. At the end of the hallway was a girl, the same girl who had been in the picture with Courfeyrac on the pink trucker hat that 'Ferre had found in the hotel room.

"Singsmore!" he yelled as the two ran towards each other with their arms open.

"I just love happy endings!" Jehan sniffled as he produced a tissue out of nowhere.

* * *

**BACK TO THE FUTURE, PART III**

Well, Singsmore, I do hope that you enjoyed your Vegas wedding as much as 'Ferre, Jehan, and I enjoyed finding Courfeyrac.

So, I guess your question is kind of irrelevant since I WAS THE BEST MAN! TAKE THAT COMBEFERRE! Plllllth.

Uh... yeah... Hope that answered your question! Courfeyrac asked me to go with him to his therapist today. He said he's gone crazy because that Charles guy made him watch _Beverly Hills Chihuahua_ an unhealthy amount of times, so he needs help. I guess...

Gotta go! Peace out, boy scout!

Enjolras


	8. In which Rosenferre & Guildenjoly exist

A/N: Hi, so I kinda fell off the face of the earth for a while. But now I am back! And I got a car and his name is Byron "Buster" Bluth and we are friendz to da endzzz.

Also I got accepted into my first college! [message me if youd like to know/chat about it lol]

I AM ALSO UNHEALTHILY OBSESSED WITH 'DOCTOR WHO' IT'S KINDA PATHETIC.

Yay for **Satirist** for being the questioneer! This is the last question that I've gotten that I haven't written about yet SO I NEED MOAR QUESTIONS SO THAT I CAN WRITEEE!

It's like clapping for Tinkerbell in "Peter Pan." I need your questions to liveeee

NOTICE: IF YOU DO NOT LISTEN TO "BLOODY BLOODY ANDREW JACKSON" WE CANNOT BE FRIENDS. EVER.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nope. Nuffin. Also, this chapter may suck. A lot. Don't yell at me. Send me questions. Yay.

* * *

Dear Enjolras,

You've made it clear you have no interest pursuing a romantic relationship. Is this because you're cynical and don't believe in love, because you aren't attracted to any women, because you haven't met the right person, or simply because you think that fighting for freedom is more important? For the record, I feel that fighting for the people of Paris is a lot more important that romance, but that's just my lowly opinion. This question isn't meant to be offensive; I'm just genuinely curious.

Satirist

Satirist,

Wow, that's a pretty deep question, yo!

It's not like I don't _believe_ in love. Because, as Sheila Franklin sings in the super special awesome _Hair_ musical, "I believe in love!" And she's, like, a hippie and stuff.

I really have no idea where this is going... But I think love exists, and I guess that I haven't found the right person yet. But yeah, freedom is def more important than finding a love interest, that's fo sho.

Hmm... story time.

Well, I did have a "close" friend who was a girl once... I will never forget my darling Brigitte.

* * *

-INSERT CLEVER TRANSITION HERE-

So, one day Feuilly and I had decided to hang out together at the Musain. We don't really spend much time with each other, and it was kinda weird... but that's besides the point.

Out of nowhere, Joly and Combeferre burst through the door, each linking arms with a girl situated between them. She was dressed in all black, and didn't look like healthy or normal. Joly and Combeferre were laughing, but the girl remained stoic.

"You want me to say something, don't you?" I frowned at the two students.

"Would you like to meet our friend, Brigitte? She's um... what was it 'Ferre?" Joly smiled.

"She's one of our professors' daughter. She's been anxious to meet you, Enj!" 'Ferre grinned.

"As soon as you two stop acting like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern I'd be more than happy to introduce myself," I sneered.

"I want to meet a girl," Feuilly sighed, making a fan out of his napkin.

We stared at him for a bit, and then I turned my attention to Brigitte.

"Hello, mam'selle, I'm Enjolras," I said.

"Hi," she returned.

"Charming young lady," I sarcastically muttered to Rosenferre and Guildenjoly.

"She doesn't talk much," Combeferre told me.

"That's a rare quality in girls of her age," I noted, "Say, Brigitte, would you like something to eat or anything?"

"No," she replied.

"Care to sit down?" I pulled out a chair for her next to Feuilly.

"Yes."

After twenty minutes of getting one-word replies of "No," "Yes," and "Thank you" from Brigitte I began to admire, yet question, her quiet nature. Combeferre asked if he could bring her to the _Amis_ meeting that night, and Joly quickly insisted that he should. I agreed. She wouldn't say much anyway.

I could tell from Combeferre and Joly's expressions that something was up.

At the meeting that night, Combeferre, Joly, and Brigitte were there promptly on time. Brigitte acted somewhat dismissive and strange. She sat in another room by herself, and hardly made any noise. During the meeting, Combeferre and Joly were uncharacteristically giggling at each other, trying to subtle about it. When everything was over, she obediently let Combeferre escort her out of the Musain.

There was definitely something going on.

This continued for about a week. Brigitte mechanically refused to eat anything and spoke in taut one-word phrases. She sat alone with me, but let me do all the talking. Combeferre and Joly were always at another table close by, and they always quietly smirked whenever she spoke. She agreed and disagreed with me when appropriate, it was almost perfect.

One day, I asked her a question, and she didn't respond like she normally did, and I was quite confused. I glanced over at Combeferre and Joly, and they look panicked. I could see Combeferre pull a contraption out of his coat pocket. I casually walked over to their table.

"What's going on with Brigitte?" I asked.

"Uh..." Joly tugged at his collar.

I glared at Combeferre and demanded an explanation.

"Well, Enj, y'see... Brigitte isn't, well... real."

"What do you mean 'real'?" I looked over to Brigitte and saw that she was blankly slumped over in her chair.

"_Merde,_" Joly whispered.

"What the eff is going on, 'Ferre?" I yelled.

Combeferre ran over to Brigitte and waved me over. He asked me if I had ever held her hand, to which I replied that I had not. He asked me to touch her arm, so I did. It felt like cold metal.

"Are you trucking kidding me?" I screamed.

"We thought it would be funny to-" Joly started.

"TO BUILD A MECHANICAL GIRL? I didn't even know that you guys had the technology to do that?" I crossed my arms and settled into a chair.

"My dad is friends with this guy who knows a guy whose nephew works in America in some factory..." Joly trailed off.

"I knew she was too good to be true," I sighed, "She always knew what to answer, and she was quiet. Girls don't really do that anymore."

Later that day, I helped them disassemble one of the only "girls" whom I had talked to, and we left the parts in a can behind the Musain.

* * *

BACK TO DA LETTER...

So, Satirist, I'm sorry I didn't have a better story for you. I'm in a hurry, since Grantaire is coming over to make brownies with me. It was part of the _Les Amis_ Annual Secret Santa thing... yeah.

Until next time,

Enjolras


	9. In which Operation BARRICADE happens

A/N: Hi. I kinda fell off the face of the earth... again.

BUT I SAW LES MIS LAST NIGHT! The 25th anniversary production is, well, love. The new non-revolving set is SPECTACULAR and during "Red and Black," the cafe had a sign that read "LE CAFE MUSAIN"! I. died. My friend next to me put up with my Enjolras fangirling for three hours and me crying for like all of Act 2 and he deserves a sticker. I also got a shirt that says "24601" and a tote bag that says "ONE DAY MORE" and a sick-nasty keychain!

Also, the Enjolras in this production fit the novel's description PERFECTLY! He had very cute bromance moments with Grantaire. Which. I. Loved.  
And "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" was brilliantly fantastic!

But enough about me...

DISCLAIMER: I DONT ANYTHING RAWR. Also "tais toi" means "shut up" in French.

Whoever catches the "Phineas & Ferb" reference(s) gets a super special awesome prize of their choice!

* * *

Dear Enjolras;

Would you please tell me how a harmless prank, like...say...building a snow barricade in front of the police department on Christmas Day...would look in your point of view. Would you approve of the antic? Frown upon them, but let them continue? Completely stop them? Or just hit 'Feyrac, then carry on?

Hoping you don't chose the last one;

Mme de Courfeyrac

Madame,

Building a barricade ANYWHERE is awesome! Making it in front of the police department on Christmas Day is even more awesome. And the fact that it is made from snow makes it even more more awesome...r? Awesomer is now a word. Ha.

Not only would I approve of this "antic," but I would gladly join in the fun! While hitting Courfeyrac and carrying on, of course.

I guess now is as a good a time as any to regale everyone with Operation Build A Rad Rockin' Indestructible Cool Awesome Daring Ewoks, better known as Operation B.A.R.R.I.C.A.D.E, which occurred last winter.

Combeferre and I thought of the name, aren't we the cleverest? Yes. Yes we are.

* * *

**TRANSITIONKINS FUNTIMES!**

It was the first snowfall of winter in Paris, and everyone had gathered outside Friday after class to witness it.

"Great, just great! I just got over my last cold and now I'm going to get another one!" Joly cried. He wrapped his scarf around his face, leaving only eyeholes.

Lesgles popped the collar of his coat and pulled it closer to him. "Yeah, it's freezing!"

"I don't even feel the cold," Grantaire frowned.

"Yeah, that's because of all the alcohol in your system," I laughed.

"Actually, Enjolras, alcohol actually does-" Combeferre began.

"_Tais. Toi_," I glared at him.

Courfeyrac took off his coat. "You fellas are all a bunch of pansies! Real men don't need coats!"

"That's really dumb, Courf," Feuilly said, "I hate the winter anyways. My fan sales go down the tubes!"

We all stared at our Polish friend with blank expressions. We couldn't even think of a witty comeback.

"Feuilly, stop being such a Marius!" Jehan said, breaking the awkward silence.

Combeferre and I laughed. Marius was, to use Courfeyrac's word, a "pansy." Suddenly, we all turned around when we heard the familiar pitter-patter of Marius's fine expensive shoes against the hard brick road.

"Hi guys! Thanks for waiting for me!" Marius grinned.

"We weren't-" Courfeyrac started. And then I kicked him in the shins.

"So, Mar, got any plans with Cosette this weekend?" asked Lesgles.

"We did, but then her meanie-face of a father decides that they are going to go on vacation to, like, Spain or something. She'll be gone for two whole days!" Marius was on the verge of tears. Like I said, he was a pansy.

"We should all hang out together!" Combeferre said, "Since, um, none of us have plans and stuff."

"There are meetings, 'Ferre, " I said.

"Psh, have some fun, Enj!" Grantaire cried as he swung an arm around my shoulder, "We can play in the snow!"

I pushed his greasy arm off of me. "Play in the snow? I haven't done that since I was, like, six."

Jehan squealed and clapped his hands. "I love playing in the snow! Let's do it. Who's with me?"

Combeferre, Lesgles, Joly, Grantaire, and Marius all raised their hands. Grantaire raised mine for me. Courfeyrac, to our surprise, did not partake in the excitement.

"What's eating you, Courf?" Feuilly asked.

Courfeyrac put his coat back on. "Snow... Um, snow and I do not get along."

Joly looked at him and grinned. "Surely you can't be serious! Even I don't mind a little snow fort-building now and then."

"I'll see you guys Monday," Courfeyrac said. He put his hands in his pockets and walked away.

"Well, there it is," I said.

Grantaire sighed and kicked some snow on the ground. "I hate Courfeyrac."

"Now, R, not all of us like playing in the snow," Combeferre said at an attempt at being comforting.

It was then that I decided that for once I didn't want to be a party-pooper. "Come on, guys, let's go play in the snow... Combeferre, I know what we're going to do today!"

Combeferre and I stood in front of the Amis by the police station.

oooooo

"Gentleman, 'Ferre and I would like to welcome you to Operation B.A.R.R.I.C.A.D.E," I said.

"Operation Barricade?" Feuilly asked, "What's that."

"Well, Feuilly, it stands for the obvious: Build A Rad Rockin' Indestructible Cool Awesome Daring Ewoks!" Combeferre said matter-of-factly.

"What the hell's an Ewok?" Lesgles inquired.

"Um, well, we couldn't think of a word that began with an 'E,' so 'Ferre suggested 'Ewok.' And he won't really tell me what they are..." I returned.

Combeferre nervously cleared his throat. "Anyway, today we are going to be building a snow fort!"

Jehan and Feuilly cheered.

"And, not just any snow fort, one that is Rad and Rocking and Daring and-"

"Yeah, we get it," Grantaire said.

Combeferre continued unperturbed. "And, since we're by the police station, um... that means we'll cause a disturbance of the peace or something. And Courfeyrac will _have_ to notice. And then we all laugh at him and he'll be jealous that he's not enjoying our fun."

"That's kinda complicated," Joly said.

Combeferre and I looked at each other. "Only if you let it be!" I said.

We then all began to work on the snow fort. About twenty minutes into the building, Combeferre tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to across the street from us. Some police had taken time off and began to build a snow fort similar to ours, except we all noticed a familiar face...

"That isn't... no..." I began.

Jehan stood up behind me and squinted into the distance. "Oh my gosh that's Courfeyrac."

Courfeyrac was working alongside the police, helping them with their snow fort!

I needed to find a spy to see what they were up to. "Marius!" I shouted, "Go over there ask Courfeyrac what he is doing."

"_Oui, mon capitain!"_ Marius stood up and saluted, "Hey Coufeyrac! What're you doing?" he shouted.

I grabbed his coattails and yanked him down. "You're an idiot, Pontmercy."

I saw Courfeyrac stand up from behind his snow fort. "You guys are going down!"

"Excuse me?" I retorted.

Suddenly I felt a cold sensation on my face. I reached up with a gloved hand to see what it was. Snow. All righty then, if it's a snowball fight he wants, a snowball fight he shall have.

"Amis! Come here!" I cried. My friends ran over to me and I warned them that General Courfeyrac had declared a war on us in snowball form. We were to make as many snowballs as we could and fling them across to the other side. Feuilly, Jehan, and Lesgles immediately made snowballs while the rest of us boasted to Courfeyrac's team that we would be triumphant.

"The snowballs are ready!" Feuilly said when the snowballs were, in fact, ready.

All of the Amis grabbed a sphere of icy coldness and threw it as hard as they could. The police and Courfeyrac were immediately and unexpectedly showered with tiny piles of snow. Courfeyrac, ever the martyr, promptly ran away from the police's snow fort and joined ours.

I smacked him across the back. "You hate snow, huh?"

"Shut up."

Combeferre smacked him too. "And allying yourself with the police, too? Geez, Courf, today is not your day."

"Stop it!"

Jehan smacked Courfeyrac also.

"Stop hitting me!" Courfeyrac yelled.

"But everyone else is doing it!"

Joly then announced that he was cold and that he was going to go get hot chocolate. Lesgles then announced that all of the Amis were coming too. And no one ever complains about getting hot chocolate!

* * *

**BACK TO THE LETTERIZZLE!**

Well, there you have it Mme Courfeyrac. Just make sure Courfeyrac doesn't abandon us next time we decide to have a snowball fight.

Catch ya laterz!

The Enj


	10. In which Combeferre wants to be an actor

A/N: Hello. I'm back!

Umm I don't really know what to say... but I always do author's notes so I didn't want this chapter to feel left out. Yupper!

And my friend and I have spent the majority of this week watching _Titanic_ documentaries, so that's been kind of taking over my brain. Weeee!

So **Ladyoflalaland** asked this question in... December. Wow. Only took 6 months! (: haha.

And of course they had briefs/boxers in 19th century France! DUH!

Enjoy!

* * *

Dear Enjolras,

Boxers or briefs?

Love,

Bakura (aka Poland aka Me, ladyoflalaland)

Dear Kitty/country/you,

Heh... Sorry it took so long to answer your question! Well, truth is, Combeferre locked me in the basement at his parents' house for a few months and forced me to watch him rehearse his new one-man one-act show, _Gigantic: The Jacques Phillippe Story_. It's about this really big boat thingy that collides with an Ice of Berg. No, not an iceberg, an Ice of Berg. 'Ferre is so silly sometimes! le sigh...

Anyway, boxers fosho. I was a so-called "briefer" for a few days, but then I realized that I will always be a boxer...er at heart.

I guess you want a story now, don't you? Great...

* * *

TRANSISHEEON!

I was at the Musain, of course, after a daytime meeting, sitting at a table with Combeferre and Prouvaire. Prouvaire was dipping a wood-chip into his wine and trying to write a poem on his napkin. How cute.

"What if..." Jehan began, "there was a huge boat that collided with like, I don't know... this huge bunch of snow. But like, um, evil snow. Grrrr!" He made an evil snow face and scribbled some more onto his napkin.

"That was a beautiful evil snow impression, Jehan," I said.

"It's what I do."

"That's a brilliant idea, Prouvaire! I've been looking for an inspiration for my one-act one-man show!" 'Ferre said, smiling.

"Your what now?" Jehan and I said in unison.

"My... uh, thing."

"Mhm."

"I'll stop now."

"Good idea, 'Ferretsauce," I nodded.

"No, wait! You can play like a, um, magicky transatlantic electromagnetic waves operator person who likes try to save the boaty thing. And your name can be Jacques Phillippe and then you die trying to save the ship with your magicky electro-blah stuff!" Grantaire excitedly said out of nowhere.

"What the whaa?" said Jehan.

"I didn't even know that words like 'transatlantic' and 'electromagnetic' were in your vocabulary," I chuckled.

"Wow, R, that... that has given me so much... inspiration," 'Ferre said, looking into the distance. He's so Marius! "Bye, Enj, guys, I gotta go." He then left the premises.

"What the hell, Grantaire?" I asked.

"Hm?"

"Where the truck did that come from?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Enj," he said. Then he passed out drunk/took a nap on his table in the corner.

"Well this whole fiasco was pretty uncomfortable," I said to Jehan, "...kinda like the undershorts I'm wearing right now." I shifted in my seat.

"Enj, son, are you wearing boxers?" Jehan laughed, setting down his wood-chip/pen and fake gawking at me.

"Duh, what else is there?"

He gasped. "Oh. Em. Gee. We're going shopping!"

"Huh?"

* * *

The next thing I knew, Jehan and I were in the shopping district of the _quartier latin_.

Joy.

Jehan grabbed me the arm and dragged me to one of the seller people. There were oodles of these like underwear-y like things that were all stretchy and stuff.

"Briefs," Prouvaire said, gesturing towards them.

I finally realized that he was trying to get me to buy these things. "Oh no. No. No no no no-"

He ignored my pleas and said, "I'd like five bags of these for my friend here."

"Jehan, please, no. I-"

The seller gave him his items and smiled at me. "_Voilà._"

"_Allons-y_!" Jehan said in a very Doctor Who-like manner as he grabbed my arm.

* * *

"Come on, Enj, lemme see!"

"No, Prouvaire, they feel weird."

"That's 'cause you're a boxerer!"

"A boxerer?"

"Yes."

Jehan was sitting at the foot of my bed as I hid in the next room clad in only my shirt and a pair of briefs.

"Ugh, here goes..." I stepped into Jehan's view.

"Oh. My. God! Look at those nice little dancer legs you got there, Enj!"

"Shut up."

He threw me a pair of pants that were on my bed. "Put these on and tell me how it is."

I stuck my right leg into the pants. "This is so awkward... Hey actually they are kinda nice. They're different."

Jehan left the remaining four pairs of briefs on my bed. "My work here is done." He smiled at me and left my apartment.

I looked at myself in the mirror and shrugged. How bad could it be? I mean, it's only underwear!

* * *

Thing were going pretty well for the next few days. Until 'Ferre invited Jehan, Feuilly, and I over to the Musain for a private dinner.

Don't ask.

Somewhere during the middle of the meal, my bespectacled friend tapped his fork against the side of his glass, "You three are here to witness the beginnings of _Gigantic: The Jacques Phillippe Story_."

"The what now?" Feuilly laughed.

"You did not actually use Grantaire's idea, did you?" Jehan frowned.

"Feuilly, since you make fans and stuff, that gives me reason enough to dub you my new set designer!" 'Ferre smiled.

"Huh?"

"There is a revolution to plan, you know, I shouldn't be here." I began to walk towards the door, but 'Ferre stood in my way.

"You're not going anywhere," he said.

"'Ferre... you're scaring me..."

"Just sit down, Enj, I'll explain."

Sighing I sat down next to Jehan. When all of a sudden I felt the briefs slightly rip from under my pants.

Crap. I miss my boxers!

"'Ferre, this is an emergency, I gotta go!"

"You have ten minutes," he said, scowling at me. What's gotten into him? Shoot!

I zoomed out the door and could not wait to get my beloved boxers back on.

* * *

The next day I cheerfully walked into the Musain whistling Simon & Garfunkel's "The Boxer." It was totally written back then I don't care what you said.

"'In the clearing stands a _boxer_ and a fighter by his trade,' huh? I see what ya did there!" Jehan laughed, playfully punching me on the arm.

"What? Oh, heh, yeah. I missed my boxers, you understand."

A resounding door slamming open noise suddenly stopped Jehan and my conversation a few minutes later. It was Combeferre.

Dammit, Janet! I completely forgot to go back to his little one man show blah blah thingy meeting yesterday! Oh, he's going to kill me...

"You are going to help me with this show, Enjolras!" he snapped.

Gulp.

* * *

ZEE LETTER! BACK TO IT!

So Kitty/country/you,

That is why I like boxers better than briefs, I guess. And maybe an answer to why I haven't been doing these things for the past few months.

Um, Combeferre wants me to say that _Gigantic: The Jacques Phillippe Story_ will be on PBS and made into a Lifetime movie within the next few months and to keep a look out for it.

Geez, who knew that 'Ferre was so into the arts? Haha

TTFN - ta ta for now!

Ahhh, internet speak is fun! LOL!

Kay, I'll stop now.

Enjolras


	11. In which there is a Creepy Claudia

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm alive! I'm almost done with my second semester of college and spring break is less than two weeks away and I'm going to Boston on Thursday and jdklfjadsj I'm excited.

Also I have the sick so today I've been cooped up in my dorm room watching _American Girl_ movies and old episodes of _Liberty's Kids_ (judge me and you die), so now I feel in the writing mood and I don't want y'all to think that I abandoned this little story. And since I've been away for so long, this chapter gets to be long.

PS: I decided to do **Ace of Gallifrey**'s question because she likes Doctor Who. Huzzah! Also everyone should read Good Omens kaynowimdoneforreals

And I have a tumblr. You should follow me. I'm bowtiesequalcool.

ONE MORE THING: Puppies and tulips to those who know who Claudia is!

* * *

Dear Enjolras,

What's the best way to deal with creepers? Not the nasty kind that carry knives and serial-kill blonde women (is serial-kill a verb?), just the mildly annoying kind. That follow Pontmercies around. And dress as the opposite gender for kicks. I've a bit of an infestation of that sort at the moment, and the pit bull I hired to watch my garden is getting lazy because she won't let anyone past the fence. Care to share some tips?

Your Annoying Twin Sister,

Ace

Dear Ace,

_Who told you I had a twin sister? We don't talk about her anymore!_ I mean what the what, I don't have a sister lalalala.

Anywhoodz, being a personage of prettiness, like Alexander Hamilton, I find myself being followed by creepers a lot these days. As for Pontmercy, that lovable Napoleonaphile (that's a word now) has two creepy stalker girls I believe… or was it three? I don't like him for he is a poo. But I digress…

Pit bulls, I find, are not the best guardians of gardens. (Ah that almost rhymed I'm so pretty and clever!) However, they do make excellent caretakers of sandwiches, so I suggest you relocate your pit bull. For my person garden, I have selected a trained puffin named Muffin to keep watch over my plant-y things, so you should do the same.

But I am guessing that you would not want to read the story about how mighty Muffin the puffin defended my three flowers against the Killer Rabbit, so that will just have to wait until another time.

Would you like to hear about the time when Pontmercy and I shared the same stalker?

Of course you do.

Wait, you don't?

Oh well, too bad. Here it is anyway.

* * *

MEOW I'M A TRANSITIONING SEQUENCE MEOW

Oh, do you remember the twenty-first night of September?

No, you don't because you weren't there so stop lying. Harrumph.

So Marius was all like walking into the Musain being his usual derpy self. Pining over Cozy, or Cosine, or Calzone or whatever the truck her name is. I'm there too, obviously, with Combeferre and Courfeyrac doing whatever, and then we decide to stare at Marius and wait to see when he will notice. Gavroche was there too, stealthily playing form his position in the corner of the café. Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure in the window who was also staring at Marius. A girl. A girl who was not invited to join my Let's Stare At Marius Until He Cries game. Something was up.

"Pssst," I say to my comrades.

"What?" Combeferre whispers back.

"There's a girl at the window who's trying to play the Staring Game… and failing miserably, might I add."

At the mention of the word "girl," Courfeyrac reflexively turned his head towards the window. "Oh, that's just Marius's stalker, Eponine. She's kinda creepy," he said.

Eponine placed her hand on the window glass and slid it down, smiling like a possessed squirrel all the while.

"_Kinda_ creepy, you say?" I turned to Courfeyrac.

"Eh, well, she's like a stalker to him, like I said."

"Indubitably, old sport!" Combeferre said in an attempt to be included.

"Thank you, Jay Gatsby," I returned. Yes, I have read that book. Why are you looking at me like that? I don't appreciate it very much.

Eponine continued to caress the glass and glare at Marius. It was very unsettling.

"I find it quite humorous that Pontmercy has a stalker and you are so much prettier than him and you have none," said Grantaire.

"Wait, Grantaire...? Where did you come from?" Combeferre said as he turned around to face him.

"I've been here the whole time observing human life in early nineteenth-century France," R replied.

"Grantaire. I want you to listen to me and listen well. I need you to do the complete opposite of sobering up. Right here, right now. Be your normal disgusting 'I don't speak good blah' self. It is imperative," said Courfeyrac.

"Can do," Grantaire said, and went in search of alcohol.

Combeferre thought for a moment. "You know, Enj, R did have a point."

I looked at him, shocked. "_He did_?"

"I mean, sure. Marius has that Eponine girl stalking him plus that Cosette girl he's always pining after." Courfeyrac said.

I slammed my hand lightly on the table. "Cosette! That's her name. I knew it began with a 'C!' I was wondering why Marius looked at me weird after I asked how his crush Claudia was doing. And now I know."

"Claudia's bad. We don't talk about her. She's creepy, maybe even more so than Eponine." Courfeyrac shuddered.

"Calm down, Courf, I just made that name up."

Courfeyrac grabbed my arm suddenly, his eyes boring into mine. "She does things, Enj. Terrible things."

"Okay…"

He glanced into the distance, "I don't like going to the theatre anymore. And she has all these dolls… so many dolls…"

"We're getting way off topic here, we need to get me a stalker," I said.

"_She talks like she's like forty but she is friggin six! SIX!_"

"Combeferre, take care of this," I nodded for him to take Courfeyrac into the back. Finding myself alone, I went over to Marius's table and forced myself to sit down with him. "Hey, kid."

Marius woke from whatever girly daydream he was having and looked at me, surprised. "Oh, hi, Enjolras. You never sit with me! Am I in the Kool Kid Klub now?"

"No! I mean, no, Pontmercy. I have something I need to talk to you about… Like stalkers and stuff."

"Stalkers?"

"Yeah, I mean like see that girl out there about to make out with that window?"

"Oh, her. Yeah, that's just Eponine. She basically follows me everywhere."

"Yeah, so I've heard. So, is there anything that you've done to make you acquire such a stalker?"

"Um, none that I can think of. I really don't do anything important."

I coughed. "Tell me about it. Well, I guess you haven't really told me what I needed to know so I am going to skedaddle. Tell Courfeyrac I'm sorry for mentioning the name 'Claudia.'"

"You mentioned Claudia? Aw geez, he was just starting to get over that."

"Oops." I grabbed my coat and headed out the door.

* * *

While walking down the street back to my apartment, I noticed a little girl was following me, trying to be discreet. I kept glancing back over my shoulder every few minutes or so to see if she was still there, and she always was. I thought that by the time I got back to my building she would be gone, but this was not the case. It seems as though I had acquired a stalker without even asking for it! Awyeahhh.

I stopped on the last step on the stoop. "May I help you, mam'zelle?"

"Nope," she responded in a small voice.

"All righty, then."

"Actually—" she began.

I lowered my key from the lock on the door. "Yes?"

"You are called Enjolras, right?"

"All day, every day."

"Good," she turned on her heels and began to walk away.

"And you are?" I called after her.

"Azelma," she called back without looking at me.

Cool.

* * *

The next few days went pretty much the same, minus the fact that Courfeyrac was not present for any of them. Jehan decided to take his place, however; so all was still right in the world. Also present was Eponine doing everything but having intercourse with the window glass. So that was cool, I guess?

Yeah, until the day came when I noticed that Eponine's line of sight was all in my general direction, and not Marius's. This was a problem… or was it?

"Guysguysguys!" I cried to Combeferre and Jehan. The two shifted their heads inquisitively. "I got a stalker!"

"Is that so?" 'Ferre said.

"Mmmmhhhhmmmm."

"What's her name?"

"Eponine. And I also had one for like a day, too. She was called Azelma."

"Eponine is Marius's stalker, Enj…" Combeferre said. As if I didn't know, psh.

"I think she might have set her sights on me, guys! Look at the window!"

Jehan and 'Ferre turned to look and were both surprised to find Eponine staring at me this time. And they couldn't use the excuse that Marius wasn't there because he was and I win so there.

"We need to find Marius," Jehan said.

And then the three of us set out to find him. Combeferre said it was so we can resolve this stalker issue once and for all, but I think that he was just jealous that he didn't have one.

* * *

When we reached the barracks that Marius and Courfeyrac shared, neither of them answered the door. Instead, a pale little girl with bouncy golden curls greeted us.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi… is Marius in?" Combeferre asked.

She looked behind her. "No, just Courfeyrac. And he is busy." Then she shut the door.

Well that was fun.

* * *

If I was a lovesick little puppy with the intelligence of a baby kangaroo, where would I go?

_Les jardins du Luxembourg_, of course!

And there was Pontmercy in all his glory, staring at Claud—Cosette—from a distance and probably collecting drool in the corner of his mouth. Also, conveniently located behind a tree, was Eponine.

After a few minutes of Combeferre, Jehan, and I playing Let's Stare At Marius Until He Cries, the object of stares finally looked up at us. And he did not cry. Disappointing, I know.

"Oh, hey, fellas!" he said.

"Marius," the three of us said in unison.

"Whatcha doin' here?"

"We need to talk… about stalkers… one of which I'm afraid you have lost," I said.

"No! You don't mean—"

"Yes, Eponine."

"Aw, man!"

"However I have decided that while I thought having a stalker would be fun, it really isn't. Because they stalk you."

"That's why they're called 'stalkers'…"

"Shut up, Pontmercy!" I cried.

"I'm just saying," he whimpered.

"So you can have her back now. It was fun."

Marius laughed. "Ah, it doesn't work like that, Enj…"

"What the what?"

"The stalker has to be let go of their own accord."

"Butbutbut—"

"Have fun, I gotta go," Marius said as he did not go and continued to stare at Cosette some more.

It was then I remembered that I had seen Eponine staring at me from behind a tree. I walked over to where she was.

"Hello, Eponine."

She squealed. "Hey, gorgeous!"

"Yeah, um, how did you know I wanted slash needed a stalker?"

"Remember that little girl?"

"Was she pale with blonde hair?"

Eponine gasped. "No! That's Claudia! I mean, no. That's Claudia. This little girl had dark hair and she's like ten."

I scanned the memory banks of my mind. "Azelma!"

"Yeah, her. That's my little sister. I believe you know my brother, also. Gavroche."

"Yeah…"

"Well, Gavroche overheard your conversation with the guys, and told Azelma to follow you home, since he knew that you had never really met her before. And then she and Gavroche told me everything and now I am here."

"Oh. Well then. So you didn't stalk me out of, like, love or anything?" I asked.

"At first, not really. But now that I'm supposed to look at you all the time, it really ain't so bad…" she reached a hand forward in an attempt to loosen my cravat.

"I need an adult!" I shouted.

She laughed. I did too.

"Well, I guess since you found me out and stuff, I don't really need to be stalking you anymore."

"Yeah… nice knowing you, from afar at least."

"If you ever feel like you need a stalker again, just ask Gavroche, he knows his way around."

I smiled. "Sure thing, pal."

"I'm just more used to Marius, y'know?"

"Right."

Combeferre and I were playing tic tac toe the next day at the Musain when Courfeyrac, looking drained and tired, came in for the first time in about a week.

"Everything all right, Courf?" I asked.

"I'm a doctor, you know," Combeferre said.

Courfeyrac could only say one thing. "Claudia."

* * *

QUACK I'M A TRANSITIONING SEQUENCE QUACK

Ace,

There you have it. Six pages of my Microsoft Word 2007 for Mac dedicated to you. Did you enjoy it? Yes, yes you did. Since the Eponine fiasco I have a few stalkers here and there, but none too noteworthy. Except that one time when that Claudia creep brought some of her friends into the Musain with her… but we don't talk about that.

Also, do you have any ideas for transition sequence phrases? I'm kinda running low on them. Any help would be appreciated, kay thanks.

Enjolras


	12. In which Marius is immature for a change

A/N: Hello. I saw the Les Mis movie last night and am finding myself once again on a Les Mis high. If you haven't seen it yet, I shall copy-paste my facebook status below for your viewing pleasure:

The Zapruder film on Lee Harvey Oswald's shirt at the end of "Assassins" + Jane Seymour dying in Season 3 of The Tudors + the band playing "Nearer My God to Thee" at the end of "Titanic" = the sadness level of Les Miserables  
well worth the eleven-year wait

Just one thing: It's very hard for your question to be answered if you review without an account because 1) I can't tell you when I've written it and 2) there's no guarantee you'll read it especially when a whole chapter has been dedicated to youuu! Which is why I decided to do the most recent question asked by someone who signed in and reviewed. Enjoy y'all!

PS: I am very much alive. And very bad at thinking of transition sequences, so enjoy the Adam Ant lyrics.

* * *

Dearest E-dawg,

Why do you hate Grantaire so much? He's so charming and funny, even when drunk. Could you please talk to him for me? Pretty pleez Enjy? I'll make brownies!

Love,  
the-sarcastic-cynic aka C-dawg

Darling C-doggy-doggeroo,

Okay. So everyone has someone they love to hate. Like Danielle from season two of _Real Housewives of New Jersey _(which I most definitely do not watch with Combeferre Sunday nights because TV is nay invented). If you're not familiar with amazing shows on Bravo, another good example is perhaps Caroline Bingley from _Pride & Prejudice_, which I have most definitely not read over and over because that is a novel for silly girls.

The thing is I don't necessarily _hate_ Grantaire, but it is more of I need to pick on someone when Marius isn't there or I'm just feeling especially evil that day and decide to pick on two for the price of one. Also, he really is just here for the friends and not the cause, which I guess I can respect but like it kind of is a waste of his time… although I can't really picture what else he would do with his time.

I see you've mentioned brownies, so now I am obligated to tell you of a time when R really started to grind my gears, but then underneath it all, he proved to me that somewhere under that mess of scruff and dirty clothes may actually be a genuine human being. Crazy, no?

* * *

**A NEW ROYAL FAMILY. A WILD NOBILITY. WE ARE FAMILY.**

"So, Enjolras, what do you think about putting a barricade on Rue de Saint-Denis?" Combeferre asked me, pushing up his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"Meh… Sure," I said, scratching at an indent on wooden table.

"Enj?" Combeferre asked, "Is everything all right?"

I sighed. "Can we just take like a five minute break from planning, please?" I said.

Combeferre looked at me in surprise. "This is very uncharacteristical of you, Enj! Also 'uncharacteristical' is a word now," he said.

I looked at him. "I'm only human, 'Ferre-bear," I said.

Combeferre looked up for a moment, and I can only guess that he was pondering his new nickname. "Ferre-bear. That's new… I like it…"

"Have you ever played beer pong, Enj?" a voice asked from behind me.

I turned around in my char it face Grantaire. "I'm a good boy, R, I don't do that sort of thing!" I said.

Grantaire rolled his eyes and arranged ten empty glasses, mind you they were all his and were filled with alcohol just moments ago, into a triangle pattern. "Get yer blond a-word over here, M'sieur Enjolras," he said gruffly, "You too, 'Ferre."

Combeferre and I exchanged a quick glance before walking over to Grantaire. "All right, R, now what?"

Grantaire looked around for a minute. "Hey, Pontmercy!" he yelled.

Marius sat up straight in his chair and looked ahead of him, eyes wide. "Yes?" he squeaked.

"I need your help with something," Grantaire replied.

Marius slowly walked over to the table where Grantaire, Combeferre, and I were standing around. "Hey, guys," he said nervously.

"You're on my team. Go find ten more glasses and we can start," Grantaire said.

Marius nodded quickly and scampered off to go on his quest for cups. I watched him as he left and focused my attention on Grantaire. "What the bloody hell are you doing, Grantaire Elizabeth Grantaireson!" I yelled.

Grantaire put his hand on the table and leaned on it. "You know very well that is not my name… Enjolras Elizabeth Enjolrason," he said.

I glared at him and stuck out my tongue. A few seconds later Marius returned with the glasses in question and Grantaire set them up in the triangle shape as he had with the other ones. He then set Marius once again on a quest for a jug of any alcohol of his choosing. Pontmercy came back and Grantaire poured the alcohol into all of the cups.

"So we have to drink all of this?" I asked.

"Well, yeah, eventually," Grantaire said. He produced two small balls out of his pocket and gave one of them to Marius. Marius decided to be obnoxious and threw it at me.

"What the hell, Pontmercy?" I yelled, rubbing my arm. Combeferre went to go retrieve the ball. Marius giggled, and Grantaire joined in on his laughter. Combeferre gave the ball back to Grantaire and waited for further instruction.

Grantaire held up a ball. "Get the ball in the glass. And then drink it. Is that simple," he slurred.

"But wait… Combeferre and I don't have balls!" I said. Marius and Grantaire exploded into a fit of laughter, and Combeferre and I looked on in disdain.

"Balls!" Marius screamed in between giggles.

"How old are you, Pontmercy, seriously! Balls… spherical objects… you know very well what I meant!" I said.

"You… you don't have…" Marius stammered.

"Argo eff yourself!" I shouted at the two Amis who were currently rolling on the ground laughing. I bared my teeth and clenched my fists.

Combeferre put a restraining hand on my shoulder. "Enj… stop quoting amazing movies starring Ben Affleck and wait for the two least mature members of Les Amis finish their business."

I took a step back and listened to Combeferre's advice. Finally, when the two of them were done being immature, Grantaire finished explaining the game. He threw one of the balls and it landed in a glass by Combeferre. He then said Combeferre was to drink the whole thing and set it aside. Combeferre lifted up the glass and inspected it like Inspector Javert examining at a poor person. The next thing I knew I had downed seven glasses of alcohol, and Combeferre had two. There was one glass left on each side.

"You… you know what, guys?" I said, hiccupping.

"Whazzat?" Marius replied in a similar manner.

"You… you guys are my best friends… I—I'm serious," I said, failing to repress another hiccup.

"You're my best friend too, Enj," Grantaire said.

"You know what. R? You… You're kinda all right yourself," I said.

Combeferre eyed me warily. "Are you all right, Enjolras?" he asked. I had a feeling he was starting to get a little tipsy, but I was most definitely on top of things. For. Sure. Definitely for sure.

I picked up the ball and aimed for the final glass on Marius and Grantaire's side. I missed, surprisingly. Grantaire expertly threw his ball and it successfully landed in the glass on my side.

I looked at Combeferre, who was reaching out his hand to drink it. "No… no… I got this," I said, flicking his hand away.

"Are you sure, Enj?" he asked, "I'm telling you right now you're gonna feel like crap in the morning."

I waved away his concerned. "Nah… I'm totally under control. Like that time I was six years old and at my cousin's wedding and then my dad told me that the wine was actually grape juice but then it was actually wine. I'm totes a pro at this, 'Ferre-bear," I said, and then I downed the glass before Combeferre got a chance to take it away from me.

"We win!" Grantaire said, high-fiving a very tipsy Marius Pontmercy.

I began to wobble a little bit on my feet, and Combeferre suggested that I needed to get myself home. He and Grantaire took my arms and helped my get back to my apartment. I was fine though, I didn't need any help, I swear!

Combeferre left Grantaire and said that he was going to back to the Musain to check on Marius. I remember Grantaire helping me into bed and making sure that there was a bucket near me.

"Wha… Whazzat for?" I asked.

Grantaire smoothed my hair back from my forehead. "You're gonna need it within the next few hours, trust me, " he said, smiling. He turned on his heel and began to leave my room.

"Hey… Grantaire," I said.

He looked back at me. "Yeah, Enj?"

"Thanks. We… we should play that game again sometime," I said. It was definitely time for a nap.

Grantaire nodded and smiled again before heading out back to the Musain. Within the hour, I suddenly was thankful for the bucket next to my bed.

* * *

**STAND AND DELIVER, YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE.**

Dear C-money-dawgg,

Awww… now wasn't that a cute story? Yes. Yes it was.

I'm expecting brownies now… so get on with it.

Peace love meow,

Enjolras


	13. In which Marius mourns Jane Seymour

A/N: So, I don't have class tomorrow and my Sims crashed right when my Sim was about to get married and I am really angry. Furthermore, I missed five teams on my March Madness bracket today. Let's take my anger out on a new chapter of AAE!

Also, no judging of the Sims! My friends wouldn't talk to me until I got it. I have nice friends. And I named my whole family after Philippa Gregory characters. No, seriously the mom's name is "Jacquetta Rivers."

… I do not have a problem.

The questioneer this week is **Bolt and Chi-Chi **because they bothered to re-log in and ask a question, and I really appreciate that!

(Also, keep in mind the following is _not_ what I personally thought of the Les Mis movie).

* * *

Dear Enjolras,

Have you seen the new Les Mis movie? I know the author did, but did you? Did the rest of the Amis? What did you think of your characters?

Oh, and if you heard that, that was the sound of the fourth wall breaking. I'll fix it later. And bring brownies.

Loves!  
Bolt

Dearest Bolt,

Do you happen to be that dog from that Disney movie I never saw? Because that would be kinda cool… anywhoodles!

I did indeed see the motion picture spectacular that was _Les Misérables_. Combeferre told me that if I came with him to see it, he would smuggle in some brownies for me. And I just love brownies as much as I love being a butt trumpet to Grantaire, so naturally I went! Courfeyrac and Marius came along for the ride, too. And somehow Grantaire had saved seats for us at the theatre even though 'Ferre promised me he would not be there… but I digress…

Wait, why am I explaining this to you all hear in the answer? Let's tell it in story/flashback form!

* * *

**MEEP MEEP**

"Saved y'all seats!" Grantaire announced as he gestured to the random items strewn across four seats near to him.

"I thought you said he wasn't coming," I muttered to Combeferre.

"Well, I had to… I mean, we all wanted you to come and stuff. And who do you think helped me to bake the brownies?" Combeferre replied.

I immediately spat out a brownie bit. "_What?_"

"No, no, no, they're not 'special' brownies, it's more like Grantaire really wanted to wear a chef's hat and watch me cook. And, to a six-year-old, that is considered 'helping,'" he said.

I shrugged it off and stuffed the rest of the brownie in my face and glared at Grantaire in silence until we sat down. Combeferre placed his coat over the seat next to me and said he had to run to get more snacks, and I told him to get me everything, to which he rolled his eyes in response. Marius immediately tossed Combeferre's coat onto the chair next to him and settled in next to me instead.

"What are you doing, Pontmercy?" I sighed.

"I'm scared, and you're the Fearless Leader," he squeaked.

Great. An inebriated stalker to my left and a squirmy Buonapartist to my right. Fan-tucking-fastic.

Courfeyrac scooted next to Marius and leaned forward. "Don't worry, Enj, I got your back. But if he starts screaming, he's all your problem," he said.

"Thank you, Courfeyrac. I know I can always count on you being there for me," I deadpanned. He nodded and smiled.

Combeferre came back a few minutes later with a tub of popcorn and a blue slushy. Without looking, I immediately held my hand out for a treat, to which Combeferre sighed audibly. I smiled at the cool blue-raspberry beverage I now possessed.

"Ah! It's starting!" Marius said as we saw the image of a very dirty French flag in very dirty French water. There were subtitles, but my eyes immediately singled out "1815" and "Napoleon," and already I was done. Marius whispered a cheer for Napoleon, who could not hear him for he was dead. I hate Marius, have I mentioned that recently?

From the first part of the movie, all I remember was that guy from _Master and Commander_ couldn't sing and the cute little grandpa guy who was as cute as a box of babies. And then there were women in a factory and I stopped caring.

Grantaire kept poking me and giggling during the scenes with the prostitutes, and I felt as unamused as Queen Victoria during, well, anything. Courfeyrac shielded Marius's eyes to protect his innocence. I did like the part where they pulled that girl's teeth out, because she was in pain and I thought that was funny since she was annoying as hell. I sure hope she dies. Five minutes and an unnecessary song later, my wish is granted.

I don't really care for real until _Master and Commander _stops singing on the roof of some old building. Because then the music gets all cool and the subtitles say "Paris" now! I like Paris; I've been there… y'know, once or twice.

"Look, Enj! It's the giant dilapidated Napoleon elephant that Napoleon built during the Napoleonic era!" Marius whispered excitedly, pointing at the screen. God, I hate Marius.

"Thirsty, Mar-bear?" I asked. He nodded enthusiastically. "It's water," I said handing him my slushy. He drank it in quick and then stifled a scream as he thrust the slushy back at me. He put his hands to his temples and moaned.

"You purposely gave Pontmercy a brain freeze? You dog, you," Grantaire said quietly, leaning in.

"He deserved it," I snapped back. Grantaire chuckled softly.

Combeferre held a note card in his hand so he could point out who was supposed to be playing us in our life story. I didn't really understand why my actor was standing within a 50-mile radius of Marius, but I liked the cut of his jib. The Marius actor guy reminded me of Kermit the Frog, and that is all I have to say about that.

As the movie progressed I got less interested as more female characters were introduced. I found myself longing for the actors playing my friends and me to come back. Finally, they had a less-than-accurate rendering of the Musain appear on the screen and I smiled. This oughta be good.

We were all there, at least for the most part. Bahorel was conspicuously absent… maybe he was sick that day and couldn't go to the meeting and the movie wanted to be accurate. They better have him at the insurrection, though, 'cause that's when shit gets real.

They were spot-on with me taunting Marius about Colette, or whatever her name is, so that was pleasing. And Grantaire being obnoxious was also good, so points for that. I decided to just enjoy the movie until the revolution.

And there it was. The funeral of General Lamarque. The spark that lit the fire. Please don't screw this up, movie.

Okay, good, there I am with the giant flag, I dig that, I dig that. Jump on the black thing, all right, all right. Wait… what is Marius doing there? Why aren't I pushing him off the thing and making him stand in the corner? Movie, what are you doing to me?

It doesn't get much better from there. We see Marius's other skank, Eponine, and then I have to see Gavroche die for some reason. And the movie makes Marius seem as though he actually cares about what is going on and stuff, and not writing terrible emo poetry about his lost love who was not yet lost.

Worst of all, this movie made it seem as thought Marius Pontmercy and I were _friends_! I hate the boy! Where was Combeferre's starring role, hm? Where was Marius ranting and raving about Buonaparte, aka He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Where the hell was Bahorel? Where were my sassy one-liners? And, by golly, where the frig was my Red Vest? Let's just skip over the rest of the film, including the part that no one died because… of reasons. The next time I get an ounce of emotion from this motion picture is when I get to see the cute old grandpa guy for two seconds at the end. He's such a little nugget, like seriously.

When the movie ended, I turned to look at my companions to see if they were as disappointed as I was. As expected, Marius was sobbing as if he had re-watched Queen Jane Seymour's death on _The Tudors_ for the millionth time, even though we keep telling him not to. Grantaire looked like he just found the US Amendment of Prohibition was being re-instated, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac also had tears streaming down their faces. The four of them were puzzled as to why I was not crying like I had just heard the band on _Titanic _play "Nearer My God to Thee."

"It was inaccurate," I said.

"But, the story, Enj! The redemption, the obsession… surely you must like that," Courfeyrac said.

"Meh," I shrugged.

"Jane! Jane why did you have to dieee," Marius wailed. Combeferre nodded to Courfeyrac as a signal to collect his roommate and escort him out of the theatre.

"What was your favorite part?" Combeferre asked.

I reached into the Ziploc bag I was holding to give him my answer. "The brownies," I smiled, before devouring the last one.

* * *

**MERP MERP**

And, there you have it, Bolt the Wonder Dog from the Disney movie _Bolt_. Did you enjoy the Les Mis movie? How about the part when Borat peed in a bottle and pawned it off as wine? Or when Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother from _The King's Speech _sexually assaulted that soldier guy who looked eerily similar to the main love-interest guy in _Anna Karenina_? Hmmm? I'm waiting, Wonder Dog.

Oh crap, I just heard something break. I hope it's Gavroche is shooting clay pigeons off the roof again and not the fourth wall breaking. Either way, I'll have to call in the Doctor to fix this creepy crack in my wall.

Cheers,

Enjolras. And his Red Vest.


End file.
